


Celestial

by CosmicZombie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Pining, Slow Build, Slow Burn, and also lots of obliviousness, but don't worry it's all okay in the end, so much pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 07:37:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18090152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicZombie/pseuds/CosmicZombie
Summary: During his final year of Hogwarts, Remus finds it harder than ever ignore his feelings for Sirius.





	Celestial

**Author's Note:**

> Wolfstar has been one of favourite ships for a long time, so I can't believe it's taken me this long to finally write a fic... This has eight parts, and this is the first one. I'll post the next part as soon as I can. 
> 
> I have to admit, I'm actually quite nervous about posting this. Hope you enjoy! Any comments are very welcome, I'd love to know your thoughts on it and if there's anything you think I could improve <3

****

_I_

                Remus was always the last to fall asleep. Even after six years, he still found a secret joy in the silence which followed the non-stop, glorious noise of the others. When he was caught up in the midst of their laughter and uproar, it still sometimes felt surreal; the lull which followed was what somehow proved it had been real, that it belonged to him. It was September 1st 1969, but Remus, sitting in an alcove of the darkened Gryffindor dormitory, felt as though he could be eleven years old again, awake and elated with the magic of having friends.   

It had been a long summer. Remus had spent all eight weeks back in sleepy rural Wales with his Mum, but for the first time in his life, it hadn’t felt like home. Even though it had been lovely to spend time with his family, he’d ached to be back at Hogwarts, or even at the Potters’ house in Somerset. Spending extended periods of time alone had always made Remus uneasy; it reminded him too much of the isolation of his childhood. Perhaps the reason he had struggled with the silence this summer was because, deep down, he couldn’t escape the fear that it would ultimately be what he returned to after his final year at Hogwarts.

Boarding the Hogwarts Express that morning had been bittersweet: Remus found himself torn between the anticipation of finally seeing the rest of the Marauders and the heavy feeling his chest at the thought this would be the last time they all rode to Hogwarts together. His ambivalence, however, had been rapidly forgotten when James tackled him with an enormous bear-hug halfway down the corridor and dragged him into a nearby compartment where he’d promptly been leapt at by Sirius and Peter in turn. Recovering himself, Remus had flopped down on the seat by the window, grinning at the sight of his friends until his cheeks ached. Peter was sunburnt and slightly plumper than when they’d departed for the summer. Sirius, on the other hand, looked as though he’d lost weight – but it somehow suited the elegant sharpness of his features. Both he and James were brown from the sun, and looked somehow older, as though they’d both grown into themselves, and Remus could feel the last few weeks melting away just at the sight of them all.

They’d all stayed up for hours in the dormitory after the feast that evening, relaying bits about their summers and talking about everything and anything. Remus hadn’t said much – just sat back and let the wonderful, raucous noise of his friends he’d been missing all summer wash over him. As always, Peter had been the first to drop off: he’d claimed firewhisky was to blame, but he’d been the first to succumb long before they’d added alcohol to their midnight escapades. James usually followed suit fairly quickly; tonight he was spread-eagled gracelessly on his back on Sirius’s bed, glasses askew and one hand curled into his unruly hair as though he’d fallen asleep in the middle of trying to push it into submission, exhausted by the impossibility of the task.

Then it had just been him and Sirius, which was secretly always Remus’s favourite part of the night. Sirius was different when it was just the two of them; he wasn’t so loud or so careless or over-confident. He listened intently, he talked quietly, and when he smiled at Remus it was in a way he never did in daylight. This evening, they’d murmured softly for a long time after James had drifted off, filling each other in on their summers and theorising about the disappearances that were starting to become a frequent occurrence in the _Daily Prophet_. Sirius had eventually fallen asleep mid-sentence, curled up on the floor, one hand curled loosely round Remus’s ankle. He snuffled slightly in his sleep, and Remus smiled fondly, feeling a rush of affection for him – for all of them. The friends he’d never dreamed he would have, who’d taken him under their wing without a second thought, and gone above and beyond in their attempts to ensure he never felt alone.

In the six years since they’d accosted Remus in his solitary compartment on the Hogwarts express, nothing had really changed. Sure, they were all several inches taller, James now proudly – and perhaps misguidedly – supported patchy stubble, and Sirius’s hair had grown so far past his shoulders he often wore it tied up, but none of them had changed in any of the real ways. They were still loud and outrageous and insistent on including Remus in absolutely everything regardless of whether or not he wanted to be.

Remus had changed, though. He was no longer so hesitant in voicing his opinions or sarcastic remarks, he laughed more easily, and he was so used to noise that he no longer dreaded silence. The way he felt towards all of them had changed over the years too. When James had first appeared in Remus’s compartment with his ridiculous hair, Chudley Cannons jumper and obnoxiously loud voice, Remus had thought he was an absolute tosser. Actually, Remus still thought James was an absolute tosser from time to time. But he also knew now James was a stunningly good flier, loyal to a fault, unexpectedly kind, and disconcertingly perceptive. Peter, on the other hand, Remus had liked more than James upon first meeting. He’d seemed quiet and nervous, and Remus had thought that out of the three of them, he would have most in common with Peter – only to realise gradually, much as he liked him, that the reverse was true.

And Sirius – Remus had felt immediately intimidated by Sirius when they’d first met. He was the sort of person who seemed to effortlessly exude an enigmatic sort of coolness, and Remus had felt very aware of the fresh scars across his cheek, the darned patches on his jumper, and his uncombed hair. However, Remus had gradually come to realise that Sirius couldn’t be more unlike his cool and rebellious exterior. He was affectionate, thoughtful, and absolutely ridiculous. Out of all of them, Remus still found him the hardest to read – he never talked about his feelings the way James or Peter did. In his own way, he was even quieter than Remus – he just hid it better under his wicked, grinning exterior. Even now, after six years, Remus still sometimes had to remind himself not to feel intimidated by it when Sirius sauntered into the Great Hall, hair effortlessly dishevelled, cheeks still slightly pink from the shower, leather jacket in place of his school robes.

As if aware he was being thought of, Sirius mumbled slightly in his sleep, and his grip around Remus’s ankle twitched. In the soft glow of the September stars, the sharp line of his jaw was softened, his lips slightly parted and pink. Remus swallowed and forced himself to look away. That was something else which had changed: how much he wanted to look at Sirius. At first it had been okay because Sirius had always been someone who demanded attention – but as time went on it got harder for Remus to pretend he was looking at Sirius because he was the one who’d flooded the Potions corridor again or because he was being shouted at for McGonagall for wearing muggle eyeliner. Remus wasn’t exactly sure when it had all changed; all he knew was that it felt like forever that he’d been trying to pretend that it hadn’t.

It was in equal measures wonderful and excruciating. Wonderful because Remus felt so happy to know Sirius, to know him best out of everyone, and to get to spend every day with him – and excruciating because it was hard supressing something so big, and because he knew they were on borrowed time. Trying to ignore the ache in his chest at the knowledge this was the last year he’d have all of this, Remus cast his mind back over the evening they’d just had. The conversation had mostly consisted of them trying to work out just how much James would still be able to get away with now he was head boy, and James moping about Lily Evans.

“This is our final year,” he’d said, solemn tone somewhat marred by the parrot on his head (courtesy of Sirius and a particularly well-cast sticking charm). “My last nine months to try and win Evans over. I absolutely refuse to be defeated, and you’re all going to help me.”

“Mate –” Sirius had looked mildly affronted. “What do you think we’ve been doing?”

“Well clearly not a very good job or I would be spending my first night back more agreeably occupied,” James had retorted, sniffing. The parrot immediately copied him. “Shut it,” James had added, glancing upwards as it sniffed loudly again.

“Look, I hate to break it to you, Prongs, but you can’t _make_ someone fall in love with you,” Sirius had said, grabbing the carton of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans from Peter’s lap and stuffing a handful into his mouth. Remus had winced at his complete fearlessness for whatever ominous flavours might be lurking amongst innocent tangerine or strawberry.

“Of course you can’t,” James had snorted. The parrot had promptly copied this too, but James was too intent on contradicting Sirius to notice this time. “I phrased it poorly: I need to make her realise she’s already in love with me. Because I know she is, Padfoot, I just know it. She’s just not ready to admit it yet.”

Sirius had looked nauseated, which was possibly more to do with the unfortunate combination of beans he’d just consumed rather than James’s proclamations.

“How do you know she’s in love with you?” Peter had asked, taking advantage of Sirius’s silence to break into the conversation and to liberate the chocolate frogs from Sirius’s vicinity.

“I think the lady doth protest a little too much,” James had said smugly. The parrot sniffed loudly.

“What do you mean?” Peter had questioned thickly through a mouthful of chocolate.

“Don’t you think that, for someone who supposedly hates me, Evans spends an awful lot of time and energy hating me?” James had grinned, and Remus had to agree that he had a point. “If she really hated me, she’d just act as though I didn’t exist.”

 “You mean like how when you asked her how her summer was she looked straight through you and then started talking to Marlene McKinnon?” Sirius had quirked an eyebrow, taking a swig of butterbeer.

James had chosen to ignore this remark. “Moony’s on board, aren’t you Moony? You’ll help me make Evans realise she and I are meant to be, won’t you?”

“Speaking as the only one of this group Evans remotely trusts, I’m not sure I can agree to that,” Remus had replied. He had been sitting with his back against Sirius’s bed, sleeves of his jumper rolled up, conjuring the Bertie Bott’s beans to hover in the air like fat little bumblebees.

“Moony – please,” James had appealed imploringly. The parrot had only added to his pitiful look. “It’s not just like I want to feel her up behind the greenhouses and then have sex with her sister –” he’d shot Sirius a pointed glance, who’d merely grinned unashamedly and leant over, catching one of the beans Remus was levitating on his tongue. “I _love_ her, Moony,” James had insisted. “I can’t explain it. I just know she’s the woman I’m going to marry someday. When she’s around I feel happier than I knew was possible, and I can’t imagine ever feeling that with someone else.”

“Oh god, let’s just agree to help him before he becomes even more sickening,” Sirius had groaned dramatically, throwing what looked like an earwax-flavoured bean in James’s direction. “You’re putting me off my butterbeer, Prongs.”

“I’m up for it,” Peter had nodded, eyeing the parrot slightly warily: it was studying him from James’s head in a manner which could only be described as leering.

“Moony?” James had said imploringly, fixing Remus with wide, hopeful brown eyes.

“Oh, alright then,” Remus had sighed in resignation, setting down his butterbeer. The coloured beans dropped to the ground with a soft clatter as he focused on James properly to say, “But I’m not doing anything that’s going to piss Evans off, okay? She’s never been anything but decent to me.”

James beamed, looking happier than he had the time Lily had accidentally said “hi” to him when she mistook him for Fabian Prewett. “I knew I could rely on you all. The glory of the Marauders returns.”

“Since when were the Marauders a dating service?” Sirius had asked sarcastically. “You’re sullying the good name of our organisation, Prongs.”

James had chosen to ignore this, and had then proceeded to detail exactly how he planned to win Lily Evans over, at which point Remus had zoned out. Sirius’s head was on his thigh, a cigarette between his lips and smoke unfurling up into Remus’s face. He couldn’t shake the suspicion that Sirius was deliberately blowing it at him. Sirius hadn’t looked like he was paying much attention to James’s suggestions either – he’d probably been listening to them all summer, Remus surmised – instead he was looking straight up at Remus with intent grey eyes, as though challenging Remus to do something to stop him from blowing the smoke in his face.

Remus whispered, “ _Nox_ ,” and the cherry of the cigarette promptly went black. Sirius grinned, and relit it with a lazy flick of his wand. Before Remus had been able to retaliate, a cherry-pie flavoured bean hit him on the cheek and he looked up to see James looking highly indignant.

“Padfoot, Moony, are you even listening to my plan?”

“Of course we were,” Sirius had said lazily, cigarette still between his lips. “Do go on, Prongsie.” He’d said all this without moving his gaze from Remus. His grey eyes were glittering but, close up, the dark circles visible under them suggested he wasn’t as carefree as he looked. Remus knew that although Sirius much preferred spending his summers at the Potters’ than at Grimmauld Place, it was hard for him to see how happy James was around his parents and equally hard for him to not feel guilty about intruding. Remus noted the way his nails were bitten down to the quick, and there was new black ink poking out from under the sleeve of his t-shirt too, always a sign he’d been cooped up too long with his own thoughts.

“What’s this one?” Remus had asked, forgetting about the smoke and tentatively touching the lines and feeling the hardness of muscle under soft, warm skin.

Sirius had put the cigarette between his lips and rolled up the sleeve carefully, revealing the lines of a constellation on his bicep. “It’s me,” he’d grinned up at Remus. “Like it?”

Remus was brought abruptly back to the present by Sirius mumbling in his sleep, and sighed quietly, for once allowing himself to look. Sirius’s head rested on one arm, dark hair falling loosely across the skin of his exposed bicep. His face was turned towards the window, starlight falling on his closed eyelids and the tattoo that poked out, just visible, from under his sleeve. He looked softer in his sleep, more vulnerable somehow, even though he looked older now than Remus had ever known him. It hurt Remus to look at him, to watch the soft rise and fall of his chest and to feel the gentle pressure of his fingers still loosely gripping Remus’s ankle. He wondered if Sirius had fallen asleep as quickly as he had tonight when he was staying at the Potters’ all summer, or if he’d lain awake as the hours ticked blackly by, staring at the starless ceiling the way Remus had back in Wales.

Forcing himself to look away, Remus let his head rest against the stone wall of the alcove behind him. Heart heavy in his chest, he tried change the direction of his thoughts as gazed out at the constellations that glittered across the night sky, but only found that Sirius was inevitably there too.

~

The following morning dawned crisp and golden, with just the slightest hint of autumnal chill in the air. Remus was sitting tousle-haired and sleepy at the Gryffindor table with his Transfiguration textbook propped open in front of him when James and Peter arrived, bickering loudly.

 “I told you _not_ to add the doxy eggs, they just make it far too obvious.”

“Since when have you cared about obvious? Last year you and Sirius changed the Slytherin snake on their banners to a massive green cock.”

“Well when it’s for Slytherins, you have to go for the obvious. But otherwise, nuance and variety is everything, my dear Wormtail.”

“That’s not what you said when you set the potions corridor on fire either.”

“Sorry, Moony,” James beamed brightly, as Remus eyed them testily from over the top of his book. “Disturbing you, are we?”

“Oh, no more than you have for the past six years,” Remus said sardonically. His eyes were gritty with tiredness, but full moon was three weeks weeks away, and despite everything his heart felt lighter than it had all summer for being back. He set down his book, pouring himself a cup of tea. “Do I even want to know?” he sighed, looking at Peter’s guilty face and James’s pleased one.

“Absolutely not,” James said cheerfully, cutting off whatever Peter was starting to say. “Now, is Evans down yet?” he asked, peering up the Gryffindor table and rumpling his hair deliberately.

“Nope, she’s up in the common room talking to Marlene McKinnon,” Sirius announced, arriving at the table and swinging himself onto the bench opposite Remus. His hair fell carelessly around his face and his tie was stuffed into the pocket of his leather jacket. He grinned, eyes crinkling. “Morning, Moony.”

Remus, in the middle of taking a gulp of tea, made a muffled sound in response before returning to his book. Sirius first thing in the morning was always a challenge. It was as if, after all the thoughts of him that passed through Remus’s mind overnight, he forgot the impact the real thing had. Forcing himself to concentrate on the text in front of him instead of the way Sirius was spooning raspberry Jam onto his toast, Remus tuned out the remainder of James and Peter’s argument about the merits of doxy eggs.

“You look very deep and thoughtful this morning, Moony,” Sirius declared a few moments later, shoving a slice of jam-laden toast into his mouth and flicking the front of Remus’s book to get his attention. 

Remus lowered _Advanced Transfiguration_ warily and met Sirius’s gaze. It was warm and intent, and Remus could feel the colour rising in his cheeks. He felt as though Sirius somehow knew the way Remus been looking at him last night, even though he knew that was impossible. He ducked his head, taking another gulp of tea to try and gets his thoughts under control.

“Moony always looks deep and thoughtful, that’s like saying Peter looks very Peterish this morning,” James snorted. “Now, more importantly, are we ready to put the plan into action?”

“Affirmative,” Sirius said, mock-saluting James. “Fifty-seventh time lucky, I reckon.”

James scowled. “Look, I really think I’ve been making progress. She actually told me to get out of the way on the train yesterday instead just ignoring me. Plus, now that we’re head boy and girl she’ll have to interact with me occasionally whether she wants to or not,” he drained his pumpkin juice and set the goblet down with an uncharacteristically serious expression. “I meant what I said last night, you know. We’ve got nine months left of seventh year to make it work and there’s no way I’m going down without a fight.”

“Good for you, Prongs,” Sirius said bracingly, spreading his second bit of toast with what looked like half the jar of raspberry jam. “So, what’s stage one?”

“The Amortentia, I reckon,” James replied between mouthfuls of sausage. “If we leave it too late in the term Slughorn might have used up the supplies we need.”

“Isn’t it a bit… dodgy… to give her a love potion?” Peter hissed, looking worriedly around them as though concerned McGonagall might be eavesdropping.

“Of course that’s bloody dodgy, what do you take me for? Weren’t you listening last night?” James demanded, looking indignantly at Peter over a half-eaten sausage. He brandished it accusingly in Peter’s direction, explaining, “I’m not going to _give_ her the love potion, Wormy. The point of the potion is to ascertain whether or not she finds me attractive – we’re going to hide the potion somewhere in the room and then try and find out what she smells. If she smells me, then bingo.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Remus said grimly, setting down his tea.

“You’re such a spoilsport, Moony,” James scowled, stuffing the rest of the sausage into his mouth.

“He is a prefect,” Sirius grinned. “It kind of goes with the territory.”

“So does giving out detentions,” Remus pointed out casually. It was something he liked to remind them all of whenever they got too insulting about his prefect responsibilities.

“Ooh, was that a threat from dear sweet Moony?”

Remus rolled his eyes and got up, stuffing his books into his bag. “I’m leaving,” he informed them, stealing the last bit of jammy toast from Sirius’s plate. “I’ll see you all at lunch.”

“Oi, prefects aren’t allowed to steal!” Sirius called indignantly after him, but when Remus glanced round he was grinning widely, and Remus couldn’t but help but grin back in return.

~

Remus felt decidedly less like grinning by the time he slumped down in his usual spot in the courtyard at lunchtime. Charms hadn’t gone well, and his post-moon wounds were protesting at the amount of movement Defence had required.

“Pie?” Peter said cheerily, offering Remus half a steak and onion pie clearly smuggled out of the great hall. He was sitting on the slightly crumbling wall of the portico beside James, swinging his legs.

Wordlessly, Remus shook his head and pulled a bar of chocolate out of the pocket of his robes. He unwrapped it, but didn’t take a bite. “How’s the Evans plan going?” he asked instead, wanting a distraction from the dull ache of pain throbbing through him. He glanced up at James, who was lounging deliberately carelessly on the wall, playing with the snitch.

“We managed to get the knotgrass from Slughorn’s cupboard just before break,” James replied, catching the snitch just before it flew out of reach. He pocketed it and looked round at Remus. “But there wasn’t enough time to get anything else, we’ll have to go back tomorrow night.”

“I can’t go back then, Dorcas Meadows has agreed to help me study,” Peter said triumphantly.

“Why are you looking so cheerful about studying?” James frowned, rumpling his hair.

“Because – it’s _with_ Dorcas Meadows,” Peter beamed. He took a large bite of pie and passed the napkin to James. “Who knows what could happen.”

James snorted. “In the library? With Madam Pince patrolling the shelves? You’d have to be seriously stealthy to make a move with her around…”

Sirius, who was leaning carelessly against the wall and smoking uncharacteristically quietly, nudged Remus gently with his foot. “Alright, Moony?”

Remus nodded tiredly, and Sirius slid down the wall to sit next to him on the cobbled ground. Remus was immediately hit by the mingling scents of smoke, leather, and the dark, spicy smell that always clung to Sirius’s hair. He took a bite of chocolate just for something to do.

Sirius nudged him again, closer this time. “You look fed up.”

Remus shrugged, swallowing his mouthful of chocolate. “Just tired,” he hesitated, lowering his voice below James telling Peter why Dorcas Meadows wasn’t interested in him. “Defence was pretty full on, and I’m still not totally healed from the last moon. It always takes longer to recover when I’ve transformed on my own.”

Sirius was silent for a moment, exhaling smoke. After a moment, he passed the cigarette to Remus, who gratefully accepted it, trying not to think about the fact Sirius’s mouth had been around it moments before. He passed it back, stomach leaping at the warm brush of fingertips.

“You’ll have all of us, this month,” Sirius said, taking a long drag and tilting his head back to exhale. “Prongs running around and getting half the forest caught in his antlers and Pete trying to keep up and me sniffing everything in sight,” he glanced sideways to look at Remus, corners of his mouth pulled up in a slight smile but his grey eyes unreadable and intent. He paused, flicking ash to the ground and holding Remus’s gaze. “You’ll always have us, Moony,” he said slowly, as if he knew exactly what was really bothering Remus. He’d always had a knack for it touching on exactly what was wrong without making a big deal of it, but Remus, looking at the shadows under his friend’s eyes, couldn’t help wondering if this time it was because the prospect of life after Hogwarts scared Sirius as much as it scared him.

Trying to ignore the heavy ache that settled in his chest at the prospect, Remus snapped off another square of chocolate and put it into his mouth without really tasting it. He couldn’t help but feel that Sirius’s words were wishful thinking rather than the truth. He knew that for them to live out of each other’s pockets the way they did at Hogwarts would be impossible once they’d graduated. Instead of coming up with a reply to Sirius’s words, Remus glanced up at where Peter was now trying to snatch the snitch away from James and was still protesting the virtues of Dorcas Meadows. 

“Does Wormtail know that Dorcas is dating Alice?” he whispered to Sirius.

Sirius’s eyes lit up. “ _I_ didn’t know Dorcas was dating Alice. How do you know?”

Remus shrugged, smiling slightly. “Girls tell me things, sometimes. They do that when they don’t think the only reason you’re making conversation is to get into their pants, you know.”

“I resent that accusation,” Sirius said indignantly, stealing a square of chocolate from Remus’s lap. “I haven’t tried to get into anyone’s pants this year. I am a reformed character.”

“It’s the first day back, Padfoot,” Remus said, batting Sirius’s hand away as he tried to steal another piece of chocolate. “We haven’t even been back twenty four hours.”

Sirius shrugged, lighting another cigarette. “Still,” he took a deep drag and flicked ash onto the ground. “I’m not sure I want to do that anymore.” His tone was uncharacteristically serious, and the dark circles under his eyes suddenly seemed more pronounced in the warm afternoon light.

Before Remus could question him on it, the bell rung and Sirius groaned, not moving from the little patch of sunlight they were both sitting in. “Why are we all still doing History of Magic?” he demanded, pushing himself to his feet to avoid having the snitch shoved inside his shirt by James. “Whose ridiculous idea was that?”

“McGonagall’s,” Peter replied, looking mildly affronted when Sirius alleviated him of the remainder of the pie and took a large bite as they slowly made their way inside. “It was for our – uh – misdeeds at the end of term. She said we didn’t deserve to drop it.”

“At least Evans is doing it too,” James said cheerfully, rumpling his hair and smoothing the front of his robes eagerly as they climbed the stairs.

“Oh, what a consolation to us all,” Sirius retorted sardonically, ruffling James’s perfected hair as they made their way into the History of Magic classroom. It was stifling; late afternoon sun filtered lazily into its stuffy confines, illuminating the dust motes which floated listlessly through the still air.

Remus instinctively made his way to a desk closest to the widows, and was surprised Sirius flopped down beside him instead of in his usual place beside James, slinging his leather jacket over the back of his chair. “Merlin, it’s hot in here,” Sirius groaned, flicking his wand lazily at the window latch so that a slight breeze ruffled Remus’s hair. “How can anyone survive in this?”

“I mean, he doesn’t really, does he?” James grinned, twisting round from the seat in front. The heat had made his hair even more ridiculous than usual and it stuck out at all angles. “He’s dead.”

Sirius rolled his eyes and flicked the last of his lunch at James. “Oh go away, Prongs.”

Deftly, James caught the piece of pie in his mouth and grinned even wider. Before Sirius could retaliate further, Binns started talking in his dull monotone and the class was rapidly lulled into a sleepy, post-lunch silence. Remus tried dutifully to take notes, even though his head was aching with the heat and his stomach was rumbling emptily from only having had a couple of bites of chocolate for lunch, but he couldn’t concentrate. He felt all too aware of Sirius beside him, lounging back in his chair with his sleeves rolled up and the top button of his shirt undone. They weren’t sitting close enough to be touching, but Remus felt as though he could physically feel Sirius’s presence beside him and he could smell the chocolate he’d stolen from Remus when they’d sat together at lunch.

Sirius, casually bewitching his quill to tickle James behind the ear, leant over Remus’s shoulder and whispered, “Why are you taking notes?”

“Because I find Goblin Rebellions of the fourteenth century just riveting,” Remus replied sarcastically, keeping his eyes fixed on the page and trying to ignore the way his heart was thumping under his school shirt from the way he could feel Sirius’s warm breath against the side of his face, smell the hint of chocolate and smoke on it.

Sirius snorted, and then hastily turned it into a cough when Binns glanced in their direction. He waited a moment before flicking his wand to get his feather quill to resume its tickling of James’s left ear, and leant over Remus’s shoulder again, whispering, “Can I copy off you later?”

Remus rolled his eyes and kept writing, even though he wasn’t really concentrating on what Binns was saying anymore. He was distracted by the precise, elegant movement of Sirius’s fingers on his wand as he tormented James with the feather. “You’re awful,” Remus managed, half-heartedly, forcing himself not to look up at Sirius. The proximity was intense enough without making eye-contact. He wasn’t used to having to sit beside Sirius in classes – James usually commandeered him – and after a whole summer apart he felt as though he’d lost the tolerance he’d built up for being so close to Sirius all the time. He’d just about managed to get his mind back on Binns when he felt warm fingers touch his bare forearm, and startled, looking up to find Sirius looking at him.

“What?” Remus asked uneasily. His heart was racing and his palms were sweating, making his quill slippery in his hand.

“Look,” Sirius whispered, leaning in close so that his breath brushed the shell of Remus’s ear. His touch still lingered on Remus’s forearm, and he’d moved closer so that his thigh was pressed up against Remus’s under the desk, warm and solid.

“What is it?” Remus hissed, desperately trying to ignore the way his cock was starting to harden in his pants at the contact. This close, he could see how Sirius’s lips were pink as though he’d been biting them just before he’d nudged Remus, and loose waves of dark hair had escaped the messy bun he’d pulled his hair into before class, spilling around the sharp line of his jaw. Remus, torn between forcing himself to look away and not being able to, was suddenly overwhelmed at how easy it would be to just lean in. The thought terrified him; he’d always relied on his own shyness to stop himself from acting on his feelings, but suddenly it was clear that the latter were so much stronger than any fear could ever be.

“Moony, _look_ ,” Sirius murmured into Remus’s ear, nudging him with his thigh. Remus felt his cock twitch in his pants and goosebumps erupt down his neck at the proximity, and clenched his jaw, forcing himself to follow Sirius’s gaze. Across the room, Lily Evans was staring absently in their direction. “Moony, she’s looking at Prongs,” Sirius whispered gleefully. “Isn’t she? She’s actually looking at Prongs.”

Remus mumbled a few words of agreement, dropping his gaze to his parchment and willing his heart to stop racing. He couldn’t tell whether Sirius was being even more tactile than usual – which was saying something – or whether he’d just become less used to it. Remus had always prided himself on the fact that, even though he couldn’t change the way he looked at Sirius, he had always been able to bury it inside himself and just focus on being Sirius’s friend. He’d got so used to it that it didn’t even hurt that much anymore – but this, Sirius being so close in a way that suddenly made Remus feel an unwilling pang of hope – hurt more than Remus could have imagined.

He was immensely grateful when the bell rang two minutes later, and the class erupted around them. Hastily stuffing his parchment into his bag, Remus scrambled to his feet, pulling his shirt down so that his erection wasn't visible. “I’ve got Ancient Runes, I’ll see you at dinner,” he mumbled, not daring to meet Sirius’s gaze.

“I thought you were free last period,” Sirius said accusingly, glancing over his shoulder at Remus as he pulled on his leather jacket. Concern coloured his gaze as he took in Remus's flushed cheeks and miserable expression, but he didn't remark on either.

Torn, Remus nodded. Over their sixth year it had gradually become tradition that they spent free periods on Monday together without James or Peter. It was simultaneously one of Remus's highlights of the week and something he dreaded. "I have to work, sorry Sirius," he lied. "I’m going to the library.”

“It’s the first day back,” Sirius wrinkled his nose in distaste. “That’s too much, even for you. You can't possibly have any homework yet. Meet me outside the Greenhouses?”

Remus hesitated, and then nodded reluctantly because he knew Sirius wouldn’t let him go until he agreed. He forced a smile as Sirius grinned at him and reached out to ruffle his hair before turning and leaping on James who was following Lily Evans out of the room. It was with a heavy sense of dread that Remus set off to Ancient Runes behind them, wondering how on earth he was possibly going to make it through a whole year like this.


End file.
